opening day today! the real new year. feels like an old friend just got out of the big house and is coming over to freebase crank and drink wild turkey and hit a tittie bar and screw some whores and go case some of the swank pads on richie rich street.
feels like home.
it’s also the first official day of spring break. all my students are “floating kegs” in gulf shores or destin. i’m writing papers in red stick. my goal was to get five new pages done today on my barry bonds paper. i have not met that goal. but it’s still early. but i might go out and watch the big ncaa game at a bar.
lefty just made me angrier than ever. we stepped outside earlier for a piss, and he saw my friend neil down the street. sprinted right for him. then he saw neil’s neighbor’s cat. suddenly he’s under her house. i called to him for five minutes. then comes flying out and heads for neil’s backyard where i again called for him for five minutes as he ran through a forest of bamboo. then he got under neil’s fence and into the guy’s yard behind neil’s place where he trapped the cat under a shed (sound familiar, hooch?). i then ran around the block (having just gotten out of the shower) and climbed into this guy’s backyard (who i don’t know, who could be armed to the teeth) and started calling for lefty under the shed. i then hear him go back under the fence and back into neil’s yard. again, i start running around the block, thinking, “i hope i catch lefty before he gets hit by a car so i can beat him to death with my own hands.” i came around the corner in front of my house to see lefty, in full sprint, chase the cat down the street, then across the street, and then under another neighbor’s house. the nice lady who lives there (whose name i forget) helped me finally trap him. she was out of ammunition, so i had to bring him home for punishing.
i banished him to the bedroom. he just walked out and looked at me, all sad and shit. i yelled, “get back in there!” he turned around and sulked back down the hall looking pathetic.
he probably doesn’t even know why he’s in trouble anymore.
and i don’t care.
***
a few weeks ago, i got it in my head that i’m losing my hair. and part of me doesn’t give a shit. really. what the fuck do i care? but there’s this other part of me that thinks, “well … maybe you should just try to push this thing along for juuuust a little longer.”
so i’m online looking for propecia. that’s the brand name of the drug finasteride, the miracle of modern medicine that grows your hair. i took propecia for awhile in the late ’90s in san francisco. i read about it in the paper and thought, “hey, my dad’s bald, maybe this is the trick to not ending up bald.” so i talked to my dermatologist and he says, “now’s the time.” i bought a three month supply for around $90 … lot of bread for hair, but i had money then, and had absolutely no sense of fiscal responsibility. so i took it. i never really noticed much. it wasn’t like i suddenly looked like sammy hagar (which is what i really wanted). the only person who ever commented on it at all was nader. i specifically remember him calling out to me from behind the bar one night at the five, “dude, that shit’s really working!” which made me wonder what the fuck i looked like to him before the propecia? anyway, after a few $90 refills i said, “to hell with this shit. so what if my hair falls out? fuck it.”
well …
the shit’s gotten a lot cheaper. i got a prescription from the lsu student health center. i faxed it to a company in australia. they sent me 90 5mg tablets of generic finasteride for $75. propecia is usually only prescribed in 1 mg pills. so i just got a pill cutter and quartered the little fuckers. suddenly, it goes from one dollar a day to $75 for 360 days. i’ll give it a year …
earlier tonight, i’m sitting at my dining room table, manipulating this shitty blue pill cutter i got at albertson’s, trying to cut these little blue pills into four equal pieces, thinking, “some day i’ll find true love, some day i’ll do wonderful things, some day i’ll have great kids, some day my dog will listen to me, some day i’ll make it to opening day, some day i’ll go on spring break, some day i’ll die” as i scraped tiny little fragments of magic blue hair pills into a recycled pill bottle.
Tags: baseball · lefty10 Comments
10 responses so far ↓
am I total fucker for laughing my ass off at this post? It’s sad, but my god, funny as hell. We’re at that age. I say, “Fuck it. I’m not going to grow old gracefully. I’m going to grow old kicking and screaming.”
dude a couple of things: if the place you’re taking the dog isn’t fenced in, then don’t let him out of the house unless you have him on a leash. you know better than that. he might listen to you 99% of the time but when the animal instinct takes over that 1% he could end up under someone’s car. so i guess that’s a roundabout way of saying, it’s not the dog’s fault for chasing the cat….
second thing: good on ya for buying the propecia. there’s no reason to lose your hair if you don’t have to. i’ve been using it for five years and i’m convinced i’d be bald otherwise.
i know, i know, it was my fault that the dog was running through the neighborhood like a wild animal chasing its prey. that’s the hidden factor in the equation that makes you so god damn mad at the dog for flaunting your inadequacies for all the neighborhood to see. two days into the propecia experiment. my hair seems the same, but i look a hell of a lot sexier, so something’s working …
dogs have a magical way of doing that. bringing out the good and bad in you. for example, sometimes i dropkick my dog, that’s bad. but he brings me a lot of joy, that’s good.
glad the propecia is working. maybe next year you’ll be able to go on spring break and float a few kegs yourself? you’d blend right in, white.
yeah, by this time next year, i’ll be off the course work and on to destin, florida with a suitcase full of propecia trying to score with undergrads at keg parties. i can’t wait!
That shit deforms fetuses. That’s what the label said in the 1990s. Regardless of your opinion about deformed fetuses, it can’t be good. Under the right conditions, hair loss is Hot. I’ll give you $150 ($75 to cover your costs; $75 to obtain the right condition) to stop taking it.
hopefully, i’ll never be pregnant and will never be put in the situation to handle a pill when pregnant. that would be weird. i would, however, like to open up the blog to bids. jen beck starts us off at $150. do i hear $151? i’ll also be auctioning off locks of my hair at a later date … stay tuned!
$151
because you’re worth it.
love you, lt.